


Sparring With Lust

by EleanoraMcKogane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Lance (Voltron), Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Galra Lance (Voltron), Galtean, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), klance first kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 22:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanoraMcKogane/pseuds/EleanoraMcKogane
Summary: This is a different take on another Galtean Klance drabble called 'Crossing-Blades & Forbidden Kisses' but from Lance's perspective.Prince Keith of Altea and Blade of Marmora half-Galra Lance are training and then something happens.





	Sparring With Lust

Lance tested the weight of his borrowed Altean broadsword, the splendid craftsmanship of the relic he was using clear in the perfect balance of the hilt with the long blade.

He felt a pair of violet eyes studying him and showed-off his skills by twirling the sword in the air and easily catching it at the hilt, his hand fitting there perfectly.

“You really believe you’re better than me at sword-fighting?” Keith asked him with that tantalising amused grin of his that dimpled his cheek. Lance watched as he moved his wrist expertly, his sword slicing the air with a hushed swish.

“Only a little,” he replied flashing the Altean Prince his dazzling smile he knew would fluster him. Lance had his own plan on how the sparring would go and the prospect of finally wining excited him, the thrill of the fight coursing through his veins. “I’ve improved much since last time.”

“I let you win last time,”

Lance’s chest rumbled with his silent chuckle. Keith had no idea how many times Lance pretended to lose on purpose so he could see the sparkle of triumph in the Prince’s eyes. It soothed the hard lines of his perpetual frown that burdened him. When they were sparring a whole new Keith opened up to him, a light and carefree Keith who laughed and teased; not the scowling inflexible one that ruled Altea in the name of his father.

Keith was observing him attentively and it was slightly unsettling how his eyes roam his body. It tingled, messing up Lance’s attentiveness as he set himself in his battle stance.

It didn’t feel right though; there was something definitely wrong about the way he was holding the sword and the width of his stance. But as Keith continued staring at him with those daunting violet eyes, Lance couldn’t focus, losing his early resolve.

Then Keith blushed; a light blush that tainted his pale cheeks and lit his eyes in something that made Lance’s insides twist in that same wave of arousal that usually threw him off balance.

_Oh no, you don’t!_

Lance tightened his grip on the sword and leapt forward, a yell shattering his momentary instability and gathering his wits.

He was here to spar, to finally prove Keith he could also win a fight - of course he could, he had pretending all along - and that he was the Blades’ best sword-fighter. He wasn’t going to let his infatuation for the Prince to blind him.

No, he wouldn't!

He lifted the sword high above his head and brought it down, parting the air with a whoosh.

He saw Keith’s eyes widen in shock before he blocked the attack, his lips pursed in concentration. The metal clashed loudly like thunder and Lance watched Keith disappear from his spot only to twirl around him and try to take Lance from behind.

But he had quickly studied Keith’s actions, knew his moves and had predicted them easily enough to quickly block it, a grunt of effort drown by the sound of colliding swords.

“Good defence,” he wheezed looking evenly at Lance. They were both puffing, the exertion of the fight taking its gentle toll on them.

But Lance wouldn’t give up and flashed Keith a smile as he poured all of his strength into his sword, forcing Keith to his knees under his pressure. The Prince gave in, one knee to the ground and Lance felt the joy of victory beginning to bubble inside him.

Seeing Keith so pliant under his sword, hair plastered to his forehead, sweat dampening his pristine skin, eyes deep and dark locked with his, sent jolts of heat through him.

It wasn’t the first time Lance had felt the way their fights played with his emotions, how his body responded to Keith’s contact whenever they touched. More than once they had almost given into that tension between them, letting the flow of the moment guide them as they touched each other’s bruises with tender fingers that stayed on their skin too long.

But one of them would suddenly pull away and the moment would be ruined. Normally it was Keith who averted his eyes first, ruining the moment as Lanca almost, almost, gave into his hypnotising stare.

“Going too hard on you?” Lance breathed heavily, a smirk uncoiling at his lips.

His flirting skills still effective enough to overwhelm his opponent. And also to test Keith's reaction to his innuendo.

Keith’s expression was almost too funny for Lance to keep his posture. He had swallowed and blinked at his question.

But it had been all Lance needed to distract the Prince and whirl his sword, tossing Keith’s from his hand. He saw Keith’s eyes follow his weapon and then expand in utter surprise as he felt the tip of Lance’s sword on his chest.

Keith raised his hands in surrender and Lance prepared to finally give his speech of victory, a small pride washing over him. He did it, he proved Keith he could win a fight between them without losing on purpose.

But his pride soon washed-out as Keith smiled back at him, a significant arched eyebrow toying with him.

“How’s your footwork?”

Lance barely had time to properly register what was happening before he felt the floor being taken from under him, his body falling hard on the training deck cold floor and his grip loosening on his sword.

The air was momentarily knocked out of his lungs and his vision blurred. Suddenly he felt a weight on his chest and he struggled against it only to stop when he felt the cold blade of Keith’s sword on his throat.

“Do you yield?”

Lance stared back at the Altean Prince and surreptitiously took his knife from his sheath at his waist, his movements entirely imperceptible, a lopsided smirk mirroring the enjoyment of his situation.

"I never yield,” he stated.

“I have you pinned down,” Keith said breathing on him, his eyes furrowed.

“And I have you pinned to my dagger,” Lance remarked nonchalantly and stole a quick glance at his hand, the knife poking at Keith’s side. He immediately looked back up at Keith, noticing his surprised frown that puckered at his lips and felt his breath hitch at his throat. “Now, do you yield?”

Suddenly it seemed like the air around him was too thick for him to breathe, his blood pressure rising and ringing in his ears and he willed his heart to stop hammering so loudly. Keith’s violet eyes had bore into him, his breathing brushed against his skin and Lance felt like he was adrift in a limbo of yearning.

 _Focus!_ he ordered his own mind.

“I also never yield,” the Prince replied breathlessly and this time Lance was sure his heart had stopped beating for a tiny second before it restarted with a vigorous pounding.

His lips were parted and Lance tried to dampen them, Keith’s eyes flickering quickly to them as he felt his voice waver. “Then it’s a draw.”

 _Too late!_ a voice said inside his head.

Lance’s body screamed at Keith’s closeness, whined at the way his breath tickled his skin and scorched his insides. He could feel the sweet sensation of his desire begin to urge him forward, his eyes focusing on Keith’s pink lips that seemed to lure him in.

Keith’s heat called to him, beckoned him to touch him and let it burn him until he was nothing else but ashes. He wanted to burn with Keith, wanted to ignite the passion he felt bubbling inside him and wanted him to be his.

_Oh Lords, help me!_

Lance exhaled despairingly, a groan grating his throat. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed Keith, wanted him and the desire was stronger than him.

_Screw this!_

Lance moved first, lifting his head and finally, sweet Gods finally, trapping Keith’s lips with his.

He felt Keith tense up at first at the kiss, shocked by the sudden impulse that had overtaken Lance until he melted into the kiss, sighing as he opened his lips to let Lance in.

It was all Lance had ever imagined; the burst of firework that electrified his body with shivers of lust.

And the longer he kissed Keith, the longer he felt him demanding more and more of him and the more Lance gave into it. He insatiably bit his lips, suck at them and let Keith taste him until he was a mess of breathless emotions swirling violently inside him.

Keith pulled back and Lance pried his eyes open, flustered and hot and heaved a satisfying sigh. The vision that greeted him was beyond stunning; Keith’s eyes gleamed with want, his lips bearing Lance’s bites and his cheeks flushed hot red.

Lance wanted more.

_“Keith…”_

The name escaped his mouth in a low mewl and Keith’s eyes blazed fervently with a raspy moan reverberating through him, a sound that liquefied Lance’s insides into a puddle of sheer carnal need. And then they were kissing again.

And _again._

Lance’s yearning was stronger than him, clouding his rationality and silencing whatever voices that silently screamed inside his head that this was wrong. Keith was the crown Prince of Altea, the future King and this was forbidden.

But he ignored them, seizing Keith’s shirt and drawing him in so he could have more of him. He felt Keith’s body pressing down on him, all muscle and hardness and it made Lance’s groin throb.

Lance brought his leg up and trapped Keith’s waist, unfortunately breaking the kiss he was deeply enjoying, and switched their position in one swift movement so he could finally be the one looking down at those lecherous violet eyes.

Keith complained the moment Lance trapped him under his body. Lance brought his wrists up and restrained them there. This position pulled Keith’s hair out of his face, out of his eyes and Lance adored the sight of his cheeks flushed underneath him.

Lance bent down his head, tracing the sweet line of Keith’s jaw until he was kissing the soft spot behind his ear. He felt Keith shudder.

“Do you yield now?” Lance teased, biting his earlobe before slowly kissing his way down to the sharpness of his jaw, feeling Keith swallowing and then pecking his neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Yield?” Lance asked again and Keith’s reaction thundered over him deliciously.

“Y-yes,” Keith exhaled, his entire body convulsing with soft pleasure at Lance’s touch. “I yield.”

Lance brought his lips back up and bit Keith’s parted ones. Keith moaned against him, leaning into Lance’s kiss but he pulled away, a feat that took all his effort for Lance wanted nothing more than to keep devouring those pink lascivious lips.

He watched Keith’s rosiness pale slightly as he abruptly opened his eyes, terror marking his previous lustful expression. Lance appeased him with a soft and amused grin.

“Admit it then; I’m a better sword-fighter than you,” Lance jested as he crossed his arms. He noticed the way Keith’s expression softened as he laughed quietly.

Then Keith placed his hands on Lance’s waist, his touch scorching the skin under his clothes. Lance swallowed hard and felt his cheeks burning.

Keith lifted his head from the floor to stare at him, eyes firm and a smirk playfully taunting Lance’s control over his emotions. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and husky and it fitted him perfectly.

“I let you win,”

“You swiped the leg,” Lance said feigning indignity. “That’s cheating.”

"Not in my book,” Keith retorted with a swift shrug. But then the light-hearted moment thickened once more as Keith’s eyes bore into Lance’s unwaveringly. “Not if I pin you down and get you where I want.”

Lance’s heart gave another lurch, his surprise at the unexpected words stunning him speechless for a few seconds.

Then the heat raged through him again, screaming in his blood and he leaned down, brushing Keith’s lips.

“Was this your plan all along; to get me pinned down so you could kiss me?” Lance asked as he ran a hand through Keith’s raven hair.

“It did cross my mind,” Keith replied as Lance pulled at his hair faintly, his entire body responding to the motion. Lance brought his face down and kissed him yet again.

Lance lost track of time as he devoured Keith’s lips mercilessly. All of his previous self-control was now being thrown out of the window, caution be damned. Now that he had tasted Keith, he didn’t want anything else.

For a long time now he had been silently longing for this moment, had been secretly wishing to finally have the Altean Prince in his arms and show him how much he wanted him.

How much he loved him.

Lance had long before now realised that he had fallen in love with Keith. Ever since that fateful first day when Lance had unknowingly broken Keith's record against the gladiator drone. He never believed in love at first sight until he met Keith.

“Lance,” Keith called through their kiss and there was something fearful in the way he had said his name. It sounded sad, resigned and afflicted. “Lance… please…”

Trepidation shook Keith’s body, slackened his hands around his waist and Lance knew, he just knew, what he was thinking. He felt it in the way he seemed to resist his lingering kisses, to pull away from Lance but at the same time not letting go of him.

The voices were back, trying to yell some sense into him. And Lance was reminiscing all those sleepless nights he stared at the ceiling in silence, his heart pounding in such excruciating yearning it almost ache.

He had thought about how loving Keith was wrong and illicit, how a half-Galra like him would never be loved by an Altean like Keith.

Lance’s people – more concretely, his mother’s people – had killed millions of Alteans, their Emperor a ruthless ruler who terrorised the universe with his malicious deeds.

Sure, Lance was one of the rebels, a member of the Blade of Marmora who had been fighting against Zarkon but it still didn’t atone for what the Galra have done for the past ten thousand years.

And even if Keith loved him back, they still couldn’t be together. Altea’s rules were strict and severe and Lance was a Galra half-breed.

But suddenly Lance realised that he didn’t care about that anymore.

The moment Keith returned his kiss; the moment he felt his hands on him; the moment he saw those violet eyes gleaming with want, Lance didn’t care about what was forbidden or not.

For the first time in his life, Lance was going to be reckless and have for himself what he had always wanted.

 _I want Keith. I want his love and I_   _want to love him._

“I can’t stop kissing you,” he murmured quietly, gently nudging Keith’s nose and the simple gesture made him chuckle. It had felt so… normal. “I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

He truly didn’t; he had a taste and now he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Then don’t stop,” Keith’s voice was so quiet, almost inaudible but it spoke louder than any voice inside Lance’s head. Those were suddenly drowned by Keith’s gentle squeeze of his hands on Lance’s waist, prodding him forward.

Lance smiled before stealing a quick glance at Keith. His eyes were closed, his lips expectant and this time he gave Keith passion, delicious passion as he kissed him softly, lips moving slowly so he could memorise Keith’s taste in his heart and his soul.

 _This was not how I planned today's sparring_ , Lance thought amusedly to himself. _This is oh so much better_.

**Author's Note:**

> Also published on Instagram and Wattpad (username: @/eleanoramckogane)


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